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Sometimes Connor wishes he could go back to the Zen garden. Back to that peaceful place, beyond good, evil and any human imagination.
Back into bittersweet ignorance. Hidden deep inside him, free from the chaos of all these new, unknown feelings and sensations. So wonderful and so scary at the same time.
Back to his own little world. Where the cruel, cold reality cannot find him.
And sometimes, in his darkest moments, he even finds himself hoping Amanda would be there as well.
Connor is absolutely aware about how ridiculous this is. Nevertheless, there is still this part of him aching for clear, concrete instructions. Waiting for that one smooth, trusted voice to tell him exactly what to do, how things are supposed to proceed or to lead him on the right path.
But the garden no longer exists. Amanda is gone.
Instead, he is faced with doubts, fear and the constant feeling of not being good enough. That he simply isn't strong enough to protect anyone. Whether humans or androids. Or those he cares about.
He is CyberLife's most advanced prototype. So far, despite his impressive skills, they are unable to record any significant progress in the investigation. Five victims and they are pretty much out of options. Never before Connor found himself so helpless and, above all, so awfully useless. Often, so often, he is thinking of the young woman, the third victim, who shot herself in front of his eyes.
Perhaps he could have saved her. Maybe she would have shot him in the head instead. Actually, he can't stop recalling these memories. Every detail is still razor sharp. Even months later and her smile is haunting his dreams. Or whatever these confused, blurred fragments are that flash in his head during his periods of recharge.
Since then, his own reflection in the mirror is hard to stand.
But Connor manages to hold on. He doesn't want to give up, no matter what. He wants to live. He is alive. And so he keeps fighting his inner demons, laughs and cries and absorbs everything the world has to offer him without hesitation.
After all, there is always a light somewhere in the shadows.
And sometimes all it takes to understand this is a couple of harsh words and a strong but also fragile shoulder to lean on.
He still has his LED.
Removing it wouldn't have changed anything. Connor is glad he didn't do it. And grateful that he was stopped from doing it. That he stopped him.
The calming blue at his temple creates a pulsating glow into the twilight around them. The sun has already passed behind the horizon. A mixture of snow and rain falls from a sky black as night.
Detroit sinks into snow, cold and darkness.
Connor is glad he doesn't have to be out there. Or alone.
Next to him on the driver's side, he hears a soft yawn from Gavin. Without realising it, a gentle smile spreads across Connor's lips. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices his partner running a hand through his short brown hair in a sloppy manner. Despite the snow beginning to fall, Gavin guides the car safely through the town.
A tiny tear sparkles in the corner of Gavin's right eye before he wipes it away.
Connor wonders what it tastes like.
It is pleasantly warm in the car. Connor closes his own eyes for a moment. Discreetly, he inhales Gavin's scent, a mixture of soap, tobacco and coffee, listens to his steady breaths and enjoys the comfortable silence between them.
Since that day in the DPD restroom, something has changed between them. Between Gavin and him. It happened quite and slowly, almost unnoticed. Bit by bit, until it felt completely natural. Connor likes it, he likes it a lot.
Colleagues. Partners. Friends. They are so many things now. Things change, feelings change, you start to pay attention to everything more intensely. And something else has changed between them that Connor doesn't know how to describe.
It's new, exciting, frightening. And so much more.
More eye contact. More touching, a hand on a shoulder, or a body leaning against you.
A warm breath rising into the cold November air.
More time to take a breath together. Even though Connor doesn't eat, smoke or drink coffee. Or needs to breathe.
Of course, Gavin is still Gavin. Far too often an arsehole with a loud mouth. But there's a lot to discover behind his hard shell. Connor likes working with him, they work surprisingly well as a team. Which doesn't mean that they don't bitch at each other often enough.
Connor knows it's stupid to fall into that habit. As soon as they solve the case...
It's not just stupid, it's wrong. Whoever the android they're chasing is, they have to find him or her. Whatever it takes. The android. Or androids.
The victims have no connection to each other. Apart from one fact. They all owned an android before the revolution. And each of these androids...
The car stops with a slight shudder.
A careful touch on the back of his neck snaps Connor out of his thoughts. When he opens his eyes, the front of the car is bathed in a bright yellow colour.
The hand on the back of his neck is warm and a little rough.
Blinking, Connor realises that they have already arrived at Hank's.
"Oh," it slips out of his mouth, surprised. "We're already here."
Next to him, Gavin responds with a slight snort. "Obviously."
Connor feels an embarrassing heat rush up his cheeks. Partly because of this completely idiotic answer and mainly because Gavin's fingers suddenly brush the back of his head to ruffle his hair with a teasing motion. A tingling sensation immediately spreads through Connor's chest. A shiver runs down his spine.
Awkwardly, he turns his flushed face slightly to the side, squeezes his lips together and tries hard to get the trembling inside him under control.
He feels a little lightheaded. Somehow dizzy too, but at the same time his thirium pump is working at full speed.
Cautiously, heart pounding, he looks over to the house. As always, when Gavin gives him a ride, he doesn't park right in front of the house, but always a good distance away. It's shortly after midnight. Hank is probably still up and waiting for him.
Connor should finally get out of the car. But he doesn't want to. He's not ready to face the cold yet.
"A penny," Gavin finally breaks the silence. "A goddamn penny for your thoughts."
With a sigh, the detective leans against the steering wheel. As their gazes meet, Connor looks into a pair of green, very tired eyes. The android weighs his options, but decides to tell the truth. At least part of it.
Connor lifts his shoulders a bit, also exhausted. It's been a long day.
"I've been thinking about the case. About the fact that we might be looking for more than one android."
Gavin doesn't seem surprised. His eyes focus on him for a long moment. He drums his fingers rhythmically on the steering wheel. The human's cheeks are stubbly, his skin pale and dark circles are visible under his eyes.
With a throaty growl, he slumps back into the seat.
"What else, mhm? Fuck, you know what? I'm really glad you kept that annoying shitty thing." He taps his own temple meaningfully. "But it's been a hell of a long day and even a terminator like you has to slow down at some point. Unless you want me to kick your skinny arse again so you don't do anything stupid. Well, what do you say?"
A weak grin spreads across Gavin's face. Tilting his head back, he turns to Connor and without being able to fight it for long, the android finds himself returning the grin.
"Great words, Detective. So, when was the last time you actually slept? Or looked in the mirror? You look like shit."
"Ouch." Gavin screws up his nose theatrically. "Touché, arsehole. Touché."
This time Connor hears him laugh out loud. It's nice to hear him laugh. Gavin's laugh has a beautiful sound that promptly sends the tingling sensation in his chest straight to his stomach.
Suddenly Connor's throat is much too tight. He swallows, clears his throat.
It's the truth. It's no big deal to say it. Nevertheless, Connor can't keep eye contact. He restlessly puts his palms together and starts rubbing them.
"I've been thinking about the case," he repeats in a raspy voice. "But also how much I appreciate working with you, Gavin. And how much..."
He should finally get out, shouldn't he? He's said everything he wanted to say.
What does he expect? What is he still waiting for?
Connor is clueless. He doesn't know what this is between them. It's so different from any other feeling. So fragile and overwhelming. He has no description for it, no definition.
A heartbeat or two passes. Behind Connor's forehead, something sharp stabs into his head. The air between them is filled with Gavin's heavy breaths. Connor hears him struggle to speak several times, feels his muscles tense as he straightens in his seat.
"Connor, don't. Don't do this. You..."
The blood is rushing loudly in his ears now. So loud that he can barely catch his own voice. And even so, his lips manage to form those words that could change absolutely everything.
"...and how much I'll miss it when this time is over. I, I really like this. Gavin, I really..."
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